Special Containment Procedures: SCP-####-1 is to be kept under constant surveillance, on a small plastic-lined pedestal in a room with walls lined seamlessly with plastic. Installed in one wall is to be an airtight transparent plastic pane at least 2 cm thick, for observation from the adjacent room. The door to this room must also be plastic-lined and airtight, and is to remain locked until proper authorization is given for testing. A video camera must be affixed to the ceiling of this room behind a seamless, airtight transparent plastic pane. This camera is both for remote surveillance of the object and for recording the contents of the object during testing.

At least once every 10 days, object must be opened and at least 1 kg of nonliving material must be placed within the room. After at least 60 seconds, SCP-####-1 is then to be closed. Material that serves some purpose in the research of the object and its properties is ideal for this procedure, but not mandatory.

Such submissions should be executed by one D-class wearing a specialized, full-body, plastic-lined suit. Said D-class should remain in the room for the entire duration of the procedure, and is not to interact with SCP-####-1 beyond opening and closing it. In no circumstance should SCP-####-1 be held or placed so that its bottom side faces up, whether or not its lid is attached.

All gathered samples of SCP-####-2 are to be kept within vacuum-sealed plastic containers until further notice.

Description: SCP-####-1 (hereafter referred to as "container") is a transparent plastic container with a removable plastic lid, similar in appearance to those commonly used for food storage. Container is in good condition, with no evidence of stains or scratches on the interior or exterior. Container is not marked with any indication of its manufacturer or serial number, but the abbreviation “A. W. B.” is embossed on its bottom surface in small lettering.

When the lid is on, container appears, from all angles, to be completely empty. When the lid is removed, container's appearance from the sides and bottom does not change, but visible within from the top is an empty space out of proportion to the size of the container. Immediately after opening, the sole notable feature of this space is a nondescript grey surface liquid mass of indeterminate size and distance from the container's aperture. This liquid has been designated SCP-####-2.

When open, SCP-####-2 appears to exert an unknown force on nearly all nonliving matter within its enclosed space. This force slowly deconstructs such matter at a molecular level and pulls said matter into container. Once below container’s rim, solid or liquid matter seems to disappear inexplicably, without ever being visible through the sides or bottom of the container.

Extensive testing has revealed that nonliving matter includes dead skin cells, most dead animal cells, dead wood, hair, fur, nails, claws, teeth, chitin, clothing, and mucus, as well as numerous other materials. However, the force seems unable to act on plastics of any kind, and gases, though pulled into the container, do not disappear. Additionally, tests have determined the force deconstructs matter at a constant rate of approximately 0.08 mm3 per 1 mm2 per second. Thus, short-term direct interaction with the container when open is safe, but is strongly discouraged.

Approximately 4 seconds after initially absorbed matter disappears within container, SCP-####-2 appears to morph into landforms based roughly on whatever matter was absorbed, forming geography and occasionally what appears to be life, although any instances of life have yet to be satisfactorily confirmed to be so. It is not currently known how the original shape and appearance of absorbed matter is determined, nor is it known how the appearance of the landforms are determined. As other different matter is absorbed, it is slowly integrated into the geography and landforms already created.

Force continues to absorb matter until the enclosed space is devoid of matter it is able to deconstruct. When lid is replaced on the container, force ceases to be present. When SCP-####-1 is opened again, the space within the container will have "reset" to contain only grey SCP-####-2.

Testing to ascertain effects and properties of SCP-#### has been approved. For a log of documented tests, see Experiment Log ####.

Addendum ####-01: As of experiment ####-d, containment procedures have been changed. All samples of SCP-####-2 recovered from experiment ####-d are contained until further notice.

Other people see an empty page, an empty wall, a blanket of snow, or the dregs of hair left on the head of a man colder than any Winter. Some people call it blank. I know they're wrong, all of them. I hate them.

I used to find crayons and draw, draw, draw the things I saw in the paper. They said I was an artist. That I was so creative. That I came up with all those things all by myself. I knew they were wrong. I knew. I knew someone else already made those things I saw on the paper.

Then I drew, drew, drew the things in all sorts of ways. I painted, I sketched, I printed, I drew, I drew, I drew. They still complimented me. They still blamed me. They thought I made them up. They just were, I told them. I never made them that way. They just were.

But then they tried to give me paper. It was bad paper. White, white as hell, but black as heaven. They put black on my paper and it covered up the white, white things. They couldn't be freed. They were trapped in this bad paper. Bad, bad paper. Oh, I tried, I tried to free them with my pencils and my colors, but it was useless. Useless.

Then they took me away because I didn't put the right things on their stupid bad paper and they left me alone for a long time. I didn't care. I liked alone. I wasn't alone. I had the things in the white, the white things, and hundreds of good paper to free them from. So I freed them and freed them and freed them. But that wasn't it. It wasn't enough.

I saw other things, in the blue. I saw different things in red, and green, and yellow and orange and violet and olive and peach and cyan and auburn. At first, it was hard. I never thought they needed to be freed. White had been all I needed. White had been all I wanted. But the white things were all the same. I'd freed them already. They were still there, trapped in other paper, but I'd already painted and printed and drew and drew and drew them all. So I began freeing the blues. They were new and wild and interesting. The reds were, too. All the colors had so many interesting and new things.

When they found me I was still freeing the seafoam green things from the walls. They didn't like it. They wanted me to stay with the white things. They pulled me away from the wall and my paints and prints and drawings drawings drawings and I screamed and clawed and I bit and made them red. I saw things in that red. I saw things in their skin and hair and clothing and the whites of their eyes. The things still stared back at me, waiting to be freed. I tried, I tried to free them, but I was carried away and wrapped up and forced to sleep. I dreamed of nothing but horrible stupid bad black.

But then I woke up. I laughed. They'd left me all alone in a comfy room with my friends, the white things.